


H.U.S.H.

by Lyric



Category: Gwen & Blake, Shefani
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8550262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyric/pseuds/Lyric
Summary: "Gonna get some pleasure, to- to- together..."





	1. Hurry

**Author's Note:**

> Four chapters, two scenes, one love.

The tip of one of her long, gold-painted nails scrapes against my palm, right before she throws back her head to laugh in response to something my bass player and band leader, Rob has said. I’ve just finished a show and we’re in a back room of this venue, celebrating another sold out night. She’s wearing something black and sheer and short and tight; it’s jaw-droppingly perfect, and as usual, every eye in the room tries and fails to find something more beautiful to look at. Rob, over here, is a happily married guy, and I know there’s no reason for me to worry, so I don’t. I actually like it when people fall all over themselves to impress Gwen, I mean, have you seen her? Not only is she an amazing person, but she’s fuckin’ hot and there’s no denying it. And truth be told, I still fall all over myself trying to impress her, and we’ve been together well over a year. But I’m the only one who gets that smile that makes her skin shine; I’m the only one who makes hearts leap out of her eyes. She can laugh and chat away all night, but I know that she'll never move more than a step or two away from my side, not because I demand it of her, but because there’s no one else in this room that either of us would rather be close to. I will admit, though, I’m a bit possessive and yeah, sometimes I get pissed at jackasses who want hold onto her hand a little too long, or who stand a bit too close for my liking, but it’s all good, ‘cause I’m the only one who gets that ticklish scrape of her nail against their skin.

That barely discernible scratch? That’s her way of letting me know that she wants to be with me, doing stuff we can only do when we’re alone, and as soon as I feel it, my body instantly reacts. Sure, there’s always an undercurrent of awareness that flows through me when she’s around; I can’t catch a whiff of her shampoo or hear the girlish timbre of her voice without feeling some stirrings deep in my belly, but that little scrape let’s me know that she is ready for me. Now. That if I were to slide one of my long fingers inside of her at this very moment, it would come out covered with her slick wetness. And if she were to back up one more inch, she’d bump right into the evidence of my arousal growing behind her. That’s what that scratch signals, and I am all too ready to oblige her unspoken request.

Only a few thoughts run through my mind, but those at a sprinter’s pace: where can we go and how soon can I get her there? She turns around to look up at me now, brown eyes smoldering behind those ridiculously sexy lashes that she really doesn’t need anyway. From months of practice, my eyes dart down just in time to see the tip of her tongue moisten the inside of her bottom lip. From months of practice, I know that she prefers when it’s my tongue doing the licking.

“You ready to get out of here?” My voice comes out quiet, almost subdued. It’s in direct contrast to the storm my hormones are waging inside of me. Pulling her a breath closer to my body, I let my thumb roam gently across her knuckles, silent acknowledgment of her earlier finger play.

She nods, silently mouthing ‘yes’, as her hand tightens in mine. “But can you leave yet?” Her jet black dipped ponytail swings low across her shoulders, left then right, as she quickly scans the room. "We’ve like, literally been here only 10 minutes.” 

“It’s my tour, I can do whatever the hell I want.” Although as my eyes follow the trail just taken by hers, I see lots of guests that I need to mix and mingle with. Typically, meeting new people and having a drink or two after a show is something I enjoy, but not right now. Not when Gwen has turned her hand under mine and is dragging her nails back and forth across my palm. Not when her chocolate eyes are staring up at me with a mixture of love and lust that only serves to strengthen my desire for her. Not when my untucked shirt tails and the closeness of Gwen’s body are the only things protecting my current horny state from being exposed to the good folks in the crowded room we’re standing in.

“You’re right, baby, I spoke too soon.” My annoyance seeps out of me as an agonized sigh, the guitar-calloused hands that push my hair back from my forehead, clumsy and frustrated. Tenderness smooths out my voice though, as I cup her sweet face in apology for delaying our gratification. “Hold onto that for me?”

She lets her eyes roam the length of my body before meeting mine again, a knowing smile decorating that beautiful face. “It’s all yours, Cowboy.”

She reaches up to where my hand is touching her face, pulling it down to hold close to her heart. I can feel the rapid pace of its beat, and a bead of sweat breaks out on my forehead. “Let’s go be social with your peeps for now.” I agree, and hand in hand, I lead her over to a couple that we’ve yet to meet.

As we walk, her nails scrape up and down the length of my index finger and I accept it as tacit promise of what’s to come. My mind wanders off to the another time when we were surrounded by people, but wanted to be alone...


	2. Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All the energy's pulling me right back to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _She reaches up to where my hand is touching her face, pulling it down to hold close to her heart. I can feel the rapid pace of its beat, and a bead of sweat breaks out on my forehead. “Let’s go be social with your peeps for now.” I agree, and hand in hand, I lead her over to a couple that we’ve yet to meet._
> 
>  
> 
> _As we walk, her nails scrape up and down the length of my index finger and I accept it as tacit promise of what’s to come. My mind wanders off to the another time when we were surrounded by people, but wanted to be alone..._

The ranch is swarming with people: dancers, crew, Gwen's team and band members, the kids. It was a last minute decision for an epic day off for everyone on Gwen's tour - and her way of not allowing me to isolate and wallow in the most recent and most vile character assassination wielded by the media against me. 

"Everyone loves you, baby... I love you, and I'm not gonna let this occupy your thoughts any more than it already has." She followed up her statement with ten tiny kisses, all along my cheeks, and just like that, we were headed caravan-style, from Texas to Oklahoma.

And so, 40 people descended on my ranch for a day, creating chaos and wreckage and laughter and warmth. How did she know this was exactly what I needed?

Because she's fuckin' magical, that's how.

I sent Louie on ahead to wipe the shelves of Sooner's and Family Dollar clean, and made sure the quads and all of the other toys were gassed up and ready for action. And now standing on my porch, surveying the energy of the scene laid out in front of me, I have to admit that as usual, Gwen was right. Between helping out with doing laundry, leading a trek down to the waterfall and making my favorite cheese dip, I barely had time to take a piss, let alone allow my mind be distracted by the bullshit that had affected me way more than I ever imagined it could.

It's just that this time - and from now on - things are different. There's so much more at stake; what happens to me, happens to Gwen and King and Zuma and Apollo. We're a family now, and if my name gets mixed up in some shit, inevitably Gwen's name pops up, and it reflects poorly on her too, not just me. Folks can say whatever the hell they want about me, I don't give a shit, but I'll be damned if that talk bleeds over to include the sweetest woman God ever created. No, I'm not homophobic and I sure as hell ain't racist, but people will make wrong assumptions about Gwen and judge her incorrectly due to my stupidity: guilt by association. I can't have that. 

I want the boys to have me to look up to. I need to be the best man I can be, not just for myself, or even for Gwen, but for them. Their dad is a pretty sorry excuse for a man, if you ask me, and that makes me take my role in their lives even more seriously. Kingston pays such close attention to everything I say and do, and Apollo is a baby who I'm gonna have a big hand in raising. Zuma is more of his momma's shadow, but I know he's watching me, too. I've gotta do better, I've gotta be better, because Gwen needs that. Those boys need that. I'm not gonna disappoint them. Never even thought that I'd have kids at all, but now that I do, I refuse to fail.

A voice breaks through my suddenly somber reflections. "What ya thinking about?" 

I look over to my left and down. This beauty takes my hand in hers, and holds onto my arm with her other as she smiles up at me. I can see the worry darting around on her face, though; she wants to take care of me, wants to make sure I'm okay. 

Nearby someone cannonballs into the pool and a splash of chlorinated water lands right where Gwen's hand is grasping mine, her fingernails scraping painlessly along my palm. This loud, rowdy group all around, and I can't take my eyes off of her. 

"Are you alright? Is everyone good? The boys having fun?" I'm not quite ready to answer her question, and now's not the time or place anyway, so I deflect. I'd rather do that than lie.

Analyzing brown eyes squint back at me from underneath the bill of the red trucker's cap she's wearing, but her face relaxes as she let's it go. "Everyone's good, the boys are having fun and I'm happy. Are you good?"

"If you're happy, then I'm happy. That's literally all there is to it." Nothing could be more truthful than that. 

My free arm works its way around her shoulders, pulling her into me. I have these moments where I need to reassure myself that this is all real, that she's mine for the loving, and that despite all my faults, she wants me still. Slender arms wrap around me, enclosing me in their warmth and I breathe her in deeply. I never would've guessed that my whole world would depend on this angel right here, but it does. And right then I make another vow to be whatever it is she needs me to be, 'til I leave this Earth. I close my eyes for a moment, silently thanking God for sending her into my life to save me, if only from myself. I'll never understand how I deserve her.

She turns her head so her chin is resting on my chest. "Hey...why don't we sneak onto the bus while no one's looking." The concern has vanished from her eyes, leaving a sparkle of mischief in its place.

"What, you want me to help you clean up?" I know what she means, I just want to watch her mouth as she says it.

"No." Her laughter sprinkles around me like a summer rainshower. "I want you to make me come." Her cheeks still color a bit as she whispers the uninhibited words. The way her teeth trap her bottom lip draws my attention like a magnet and just like that, my body hardens in preparation. 

"That sounds real good. Nothing would make me happier, actually." Aware of my surroundings I lean down with the intention of just a peck, which turns into two, which becomes me needing to taste her more thoroughly. 

"Blake!" 

Reluctantly I pull away from Gwen, her eyes still closed, lips wet and full, and turn towards the sound of the voice yelling my name. "Where are the rest of the wood chips for the smoker? Runnin' low over here."

"On my way!" I yell back over my shoulder. Planting a kiss on her forehead, I affectionately trail a finger down the bridge of her nose. "Guess the bus'll have to wait?"

Her lips smooth against the skin on the dip beneath my throat before she leans back to meet my eyes. "I'll wait.” Her nails scratch some abstract design inside my palm and I close my fingers around them, as if to preserve their work.

I've gotta find ten minutes alone with her before the night is over. More, of course, if I can get it. Not to sound too cocky, but when it comes to taking care of Gwen, that's all I need to turn an orgasm from a simple idea into a pleasurable reality. I've become an expert on Gwen in general, and a specialist in finding all the ways to satisfy her sexually. Gwen comes first. And often. Nothing turns me on more.

We turn, headed down the stairs and towards the crew member who made the request. "C'mon, let's go look for those wood chips, and maybe I can sneak a feel along the way."

"Maybe?" She turns back to look me up and down as she walks ahead of me, her hand in mine, dangling between us. "I insist."


	3. So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We going in, that's what we're s'posed to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I've gotta find ten minutes alone with her before the night is over. More, of course, if I can get it. Not to sound too cocky, but when it comes to taking care of Gwen, that's all I need to turn an orgasm from a simple idea into a pleasurable reality. I've become an expert on Gwen in general, and a specialist in finding all the ways to satisfy her sexually. Gwen comes first. And often. Nothing turns me on more._
> 
> _We turn, headed down the stairs and towards the crew member who made the request. "C'mon, let's go look for those wood chips, and maybe I can sneak a feel along the way."_
> 
> _"Maybe?" She turns back to look me up and down as she walks ahead of me, her hand in mine, dangling between us. "I insist."_

After that, things got super busy, enough so, that it was a few hours later before I got another chance to be relatively alone with Gwen. There was a nice bonfire going outside and the band guys had grabbed their instruments, almost tempting me to go back out and join them as they strummed along to whatever song suited them at that moment. 

Fortunately, I had a much better temptation sitting right on my lap in the nearly unoccupied great room, her natural eyelashes brushing the side of my face, as she snuggles into me.

"You know what?”

"Hmm…?” She breathes the syllable into the space right beneath my ear and my fingers flex on her in reaction.

"I have such a crush on you.” I feel kinda silly saying it, but it’s the God-knows truth, and I know she’d love to hear it, so there it is.

"On me?” She leans back, putting space between her body and mine, arms still wrapped around my neck. Her expression is a cross between incredulous and curious. "Oh my god, you're crazy, saying that.” She re-situates herself, nestled up into me, and she sneaks a kiss onto my jawline, tugging me even closer. I can feel her stillness though, her listening closely as she waits for me to flesh out my comment to her.

"No way, I'm so serious. I'm telling you, I thought I was over this part of things. I mean, shouldn’t I be used to us by now? Shouldn’t holding you like this be normal at this point? I thought…” My head shakes in amazement. I still feel shy and tongue-tied sometimes, even though we have this whole incredible life together now. “I don’t know what I thought exactly, but..I’m just saying…I’m saying life with you and the boys is the best thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

I feel the thin sweep of her lashes as she closes her eyes, the glide of soft skin as her palm rises to cup the side of my face. “I love you,” is her reply, whispered underneath the weight of her emotion.

My mouth lines up with hers as I turn my head in her direction; the sides of our noses meet and our lips touch. Her eyes open to look into mine. “I love you too.” 

Those words seem so insufficient to encompass all that I mean in this moment; I do better at showing her than I do telling her. 

I know something I can show her. “C’mere.”

We stand and her hand finds its fit in mine. My thumb passes back and forth over it as we make our way towards the door. With all the people scattered across the corners of the immediate property and the countdown to heading back south already begun, I can think of only one place where we can go to be really alone.

The sun has set, painting the expanse of the sky with its purple, red and orange hues. These city folks are too chicken to venture far from the lights of the buildings around them. I figure they can stick close to the homestead, and Gwen can stick close to me.

I know the path by heart, having traversed it many times in both the heat of the day and the mid of night - usually alone - but now it’s the only place I can think of where I can have a moment alone with Gwen before she leaves me to go back on the road. Fallen twigs break under my footsteps and the constant hum of crickets keeps the air from being too silent around us. We don’t speak as we make our way, but then again we don’t need to. She glides along next to me, trusting me to lead her perfectly, and I do - to the closest deer stand on my grounds, which happens to be one of the smallest. There are roomier stands: built for two, outfitted with a cushioned bench seat and space heaters, but those are all located further away, and we don't have the luxury of time right now.

"After you.” I lift my hand to indicate the ladder alongside the stand that goes up to the entrance.

In the time it took for us to go from the ranch to this spot, the kaleidoscope colors of the sky have evened out, making way for the cornflower and navy blue blanketing us now. I take out my cell phone, turning on the flashlight to illuminate the steps as she scales them quickly. Scrambling up beside her, I turn off the light and pocket the device. I want our eyes to adjust to the dark; I need to see her face, especially for what I have planned these next few minutes.

"This is where you come to kill God's creatures?” There’s not even an ounce of accusation in her voice. Her hands are shoved in the back pockets of her pants which makes her chest thrust forward. My hands itch to cup her breasts.

"Somethin' like that.” 

On their own, my feet move towards her, which in the confines of this deer stand puts me directly in her personal space. I plant my hand on the wall high above her head and lean in, wanting to be close to her, but waiting for her to make the first move. I notice that somewhere along the way she's lost the trucker's hat, as she elongates her body, stretching up towards me. I begin to make out her features: the slight bump in her nose, the shape of her eyes, the rosy color of her bare lips. All beautiful.

Before I can map out her face any further, her arms go round my neck. She has a cute way of pulling up on her tiptoes to reach me, even as I bow down towards her.

And then her lips find mine in the darkness, all wet and soft and warm. Gwen's fingernails dip beneath the collar of my shirt, scraping along the top of my back. My hands reach under her shirt, for her waist, sliding up the smooth skin there. I hold her for a heartbeat or two, before my thumbs move to pass across the brightly-colored lacy bra she's wearing. Hardened nipples rise to meet them and my kiss swallows the moan she exhales into my mouth.

We've no time to waste; after wanting her all day and waiting so long, I'm teetering on the edge. My hands hurry in unbuttoning the front of the camo pants that she insists on wearing anytime we come here. Even though no one here wears camo unless they're hunting. And Gwen doesn't hunt. 

Before I can connect another thought to that one, I've got her pants down and she's stepping out of them, underwear and all. Next comes my jeans, our fingers fumbling at fastenings in the darkness. It would probably be easier if we disconnected our mouths for more than a few seconds at a time, but that just doesn't seem like any fun. Her cool hand reaches in and wraps around my dick and I go from hard to steel beam in an instant. I shove everything down as far as it will go without a struggle, and reach behind me for the old wood bench that serves as a seat when I'm up here alone. Praying no splinters find their home in my ass, I sit down and spinning her to face the opposite direction, I pull her on top of me. 

The sound of our sex-roughened breathing fills the tiny space, only serving to amp up my excitement. My hand reaches in between us, grabbing my dick to rub the head in between the lips of her sweet pussy. She's so wet. I’m always amazed at how quickly she gets ready for me; it's such a fuckin' turn on. I breathe in deeply, trying to claim some control as I glide through her, front to back, once, then twice. She tilts forward, ass slightly raised as I position her, my hands holding her hips in a grip I pray isn't too strong. My left hand slides up her shirt, grazing over the expanse of her back, pushing down slightly on her body. 

I slide right into place.

Her body goes boneless atop mine, a shiver passing through her as she grabs onto my wrist, still at her waist. I can clearly imagine her face at this moment: her eyes shut and mouth open as the pleasure rocks her body, teeth sneaking out to bite her bottom lip, cheeks flushed by the racing of her heart. 

My hand moves from her back to cup her breast, fingers sneaking under the lace, the pad of one rubbing the very tip of her nipple, causing a whimper to escape her throat. She begins to move, initially in a hurried up and down motion for the first few strokes, but then in a circular one, her hips grinding on me, her walls grasping and releasing me along the way. 

No, we don't have a lot of time, but at this rate, we won't need it.

Her body tilts forwards more, her hands landing on the clothes bunched up at the top of my knees. The sight of her perfect ass as she works in front of me almost is too much. I cup each cheek, my hands massaging them as she rides. I take in the sounds - our uneven breathing, the slap of our skin, the squeaks that slip past her throat, the noise my dick makes as it stirs inside of her. Eventually, she slows her pace down, her movements deliberate and deep, as my dick smooths past every inch of her wet heat. I can’t help the strangled groan that escapes my lips. It’s torture of the best kind, but I don’t know how much more of this I can stand.

“Damn, baby…” is about all I can spit out by way of warning. My mouth gapes open and my hands roam the bare surface of her body, hoping to convey what my voice fails to communicate. I can’t go out like this. 

But I need not have worried. 

“Blake.” One word, spoken with a distinct tremor and I can feel her falling apart on top of me. My hands slide around to her hips and I help her maintain the hula hoop action that is sure to make her come. And me too.

My hips begin pumping into her now, countering the swing and sway of hers. She cries out “oh God” and the moans that follow, along with the rapid pulsating of her pussy around me, send me flying off my own cliff. To my ears, my roar sounds loud and primitive, but she takes me there, to the most animalistic part of me. 

The force of my orgasm causes me to sit straight up and my arms automatically surround her, to comfort and love on her, even as I crumble forward and shake under the weight of our pleasure.


End file.
